


Killing Me Softly With His Song

by MissLiveByThePen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dancer!Francis, FACE Family, Happy Ending, Kink Meme, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Punk!Arthur, Unplanned Pregnancy, Worse Time To Go Into Heat, surprise heat, ukfr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLiveByThePen/pseuds/MissLiveByThePen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis' life in France lacked direction, so he moved to London in hopes of finding his life's passion. He just never expected the changes to impact him in such a way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing Me Softly With His Song

When Francis was a young boy all he wanted to do was dance. It didn’t matter if he did ballet, hip-hop, or even folk dancing, the omega wanted to spend his life dancing across a stage. His parents thought it was a good idea to get their omega son into such a feminine hobby. Not only would it keep the omega fit, but he also had the potential to attract a higher class of alpha with his dancing skills. So, from the time he could understand the difference between omegas and alphas, the young Frenchman was thrown into the world of the dancing arts. 

He was learned underneath some of the best prima ballerinas in France. He trained his delicate feet to point and curl in just the right way to create an elegant arch. Francis even pushed his body through torturous dance rehearsals in hopes of being the absolute best in his field. Quickly, the young omega from Nice rose through the ranks and danced his debut on a glimmering stage in Paris. He loved ballet, but he lacked the passion. 

Ballet was not his life dance. His heart didn’t move to the strumming of the classical music the same way his feet did. At the age of eighteen, the young French dancer used the last bit of his savings to move to London. For the first few months, it felt like the worse decision of his life. He gained weight. His hormones were unpredictable and he found it difficult to interact with the dance troupe he hooked up with. Francis was unhappy and too damn proud to return to Nice. 

He suffered in his half-life until a flyer was posted on the bulletin board at his dance studio. A local pop act needed back-up dancers for the musical festival. Francis never claimed to be a pop fan, but he enjoyed the movements the music could create. Besides, it was a music festival for all music genres, if he didn’t find his place in the pop act, then maybe he could make connections with other artists. For the first time since he moved to London, Francis actually felt excited about something in his life. 

By the next week, he was learning choreography on a makeshift stage in someone’s flat. He blew the audition out of the fucking park, and was rewarded a spot at the audition. When he returned to his flat, he marked the dates for the music festival on his calendar. For just a tiny moment, he recognized the festival was during the week he usually had his heats. He wasn’t too worried, though. His strenuous lifestyle prevented him from retaining enough body fat to have a heat. The omega hadn’t experienced a heat since he was fourteen. 

Francis didn’t worry about it and carried on like he normally would when presented with a new set of choreography: he worked himself to the bone. He practiced with his fellow dancers, but the London scene was a bit different than what he was used to. Going to the pub became a common occurrence as he found a friend in his new dance troupe. Pubs meant beer and cheap, greasy food. For the first time in a while, the omega felt like he was a regular teenager. He felt happy and truly at home in London.

As the date marked on his calendar came closer, the omega fell into an easy pattern of enjoying life. Yes, the music sucked, but his dancing was phenomenal. This was the beginning of the rest of his life and nothing would stop him from living it up to the fullest. Yet, Francis ignored several signs his body gave him. The extra exhaustion in his muscles after practice and the insatiable need to eat meat all pointed to a shift in the omega’s biological impulses. He was much too focused on dance to hear what his body was telling him. 

Finally, the day of the music festival arrived and Francis woke up with a low ache burning in his stomach. Nerves, he told himself as he ate a proper English breakfast. Even when he arrived at the festival grounds, the ache refused to disperse. He was beginning to get a little frustrated with himself, and excused himself to get a grip on his nerves. Stretching always worked in the past. He found an empty tent filled with leather costumes, obviously some punk act, and stretched his arms above his head. The motion only sent another wave of displeasure through his body before he became obscenely aware of the slick slipping down his thighs. 

He wasn’t nervous. No, he was in heat. 

Francis hadn’t thought the few extra pounds he packed on would be enough to give him a heat. Yet here he was, body begging for someone to take care of him. He worried his scent would attract several alphas and that would start some silly dominance fight. Most of all, he wondered what he was going to do now. He couldn’t leave without attracting all the alphas setting up for the festival. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was out of options. The best he could hope for was to hide in the costume tent until the festival was over. The omega searched for a place to hide when the sound of a British accent assaulted his ears with loud cursing. 

“Fuckin’ assholes. I told ya not to spray my shit with that fuckin’ heat spray. Can’t fuckin’ play with a goddamn erection, can I?” The voice growled before jerking the tent flap open and freezing as he locked eyes with Francis. The alpha was handsome, even if he had a rather unfortunate pair of large eyebrows over his pretty green eyes. He had a strong jawline, but his face was highlighted with dark make-up for the stage. He was obviously one of the punk acts, if the vibrant green hair was any indication. “You smell really fuckin’ good.”

Francis sputtered to find something to say. He was supposed to be suave! He was the one that usually had the alphas tripping over themselves. He simply couldn’t think of anything except how nice the alpha smelled and how wet he got every time the man cursed. The Frenchman couldn’t rely on his extensive vocabulary, especially not when the alpha stalked over and wrapped his arms around the omega. 

“Aren’t you an adventurous one?” The alpha purred, reaching back to cup Francis’ wet spandex pants and moan into the omega’s ear. “Fuck, you’re far along, aren’t ya?” The green-eyed alpha narrowed his eyes as he tugged Francis to the lone table in the tent and pressed him over the flat surface. His fingers already tugging down the omega’s spandex pants to pool around his ankles. “You’ve got a name, beautiful?”

The Frenchman keened as the cool air brushed over his slick thighs, and the hard table pressed against his chest. It wasn’t fair that the alpha was still so damn calm. Francis’s heat was simply too strong for intensive thought processes, and he only barely managed to pant out his name. “Francis.”

“A fuckin’ frog,” the alpha taunted with a husky chuckle, slipping his fingers through the slick running down Francis’ thighs. Without pausing, the Briton slipped two digits into the omega’s leaking hole, groaning at the tightness his cock was soon to experience. “Well, Francis, I’m Arthur and I’m going to fuck you senseless.” 

Normally, Francis wouldn’t have cooperated with such a cocky alpha, but there was something about the way Arthur treated to him that sent shivers down his spine. His words were harsh, but his touches were surprisingly gentle. While the omega never intended to share his heat with a stranger, at least the alpha seemed to have his head about him. “Please.” He shamelessly begged, pushing his ass back against those fingers. “I need it.”

“Such a fuckin’ slut,” Arthur praised, smirking as he added another finger to ruthlessly fuck the omega’s sloppy hole. He certainly hadn’t expected his day to begin like this, but dammit, he was beyond pleased. He must have done something right to have such a pretty omega bent over before him. His fingers never stilled inside the Omega, and he finger-fucked Francis until his ass quivered around his fingers. Only then did he jerk his fingers away, chuckling at the whine from his partner. “Patience, Francis.” He taunted, wiggling his hips as he tried to peel his leather pants down his thighs. 

It was only when the tight pants were around his ankles that the alpha finally gave Francis exactly what he wanted in the beginning, a nice, thick cock up his ass. He moved like a desperate man, pressing deep inside Francis before beginning a ruthless rhythm that had the omega gasping for breath. His thrusts were fast, strong, and right on fucking target. It didn’t take long for Francis to come completely undone around the alpha’s cock. Arthur fucked him through the tremors and knotted him like a proper bitch as he begged for it. 

Needless to say, they were both missing when their groups went up to perform. Both were more partial to more rounds of wild sex, than performing on stage. By the time night fell, Francis was covered in Arthur’s cum, and utterly exhausted. They were still tied together from their last round when Arthur pressed a soft kiss to the omega’s cheek. “You should call me later. Maybe we could go out for lunch or something.”

Francis didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded his head in agreement. If he were honest with himself, the omega never intended to contact the man that saw him at his weakest. It was embarrassing to know he was a grown man and couldn’t recognize his own heat cycle. Of course, a few weeks later, he would be calling the alpha to let him know their little encounter wasn’t quite over. The pregnancy test on his bathroom counter was a testament to that. Arthur took the news in stride, easily inviting Francis into his life to discuss their options. He was happy, despite the unusual circumstances and to his credit, he only passed out once and that was when they found out they were having twins.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting half-finished for a long time on my desktop. I hope you've all enjoyed it!


End file.
